Some SMs I’ve had on Gtalk over the past months. A good reflection of what I was thinking then.

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heart of child, scorn of a woman
effervescent as a wave, dense as the night
light as love, intense as pain
what is it that she seeks, an answer to her own might?

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schadenfreude secrets /
Camouflaged closets /
Silhouetted Souls, and /
A billion black-holes…/

The question is, why?
Why?

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what do we fight for, who’s to be slain
who’s to the silence betroth, who shouts in vain
a rebel without a curse, a fugitive without a claim
an unknown horizon, an emptiness of disdain.

What am I here for?

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Home to only wandering souls,
of a million and more dreams; //

Majestic in its silent power
and more so, in its screams; //

Maya nagari, the chimera of hope,
The deadly sweet poison, in wide Cinemascope; //

..*Bombay*..

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beetee lamhon ki daldal mein, yaadein batorne chale,
dar dar bhatakte, apne hi pad-chinhon se unki kahani poochte,

zindagi ke kitaab mein, bulandi ke panne jodne chale,
jab hum hi nahi rahe, to yeh daastan kise sunate?

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The best Government is Fear.

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Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.

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As we are reduced to nothing but shadows of our earlier boisterous potent selves, we should remember this. Nothing is different. It was all in the belief, that anything is possible. And achievable.

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yearn, for a minute of touch, a rare heart that cared
a contact of a jiffy, a lifetime shared;

a kiss, and time took its happy detour
a caress, with all gentleness i could pour;

but what if time took this all away
left me, the shriveled leaves of the autumn

what if love is far, fate holding its sway
at the altar of compromise, at my secret vault’s bottom;

will the sweetness still remain
will my embrace still be the same?

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Questions reel, bumping into each other like giggling children,
Only if life knew better than to smirk at me,
Love, I wish to embrace with all my soul, an’
Distance between hearts is all i get to see…

What do I do wrong, is it the care,
I so don’t pain myself to measure,
Or is it the love itself, so pure,
That they fear will make me make them want me?…

(*to remind me of old times, almost a year ago…)

The cadaver of the red sun, the shadow of the bloody eye
The ire of a thousand thoughts, stifled by a million sighs;

An angst, against all bourgeoisie
Me, my own, for all to see;

A euphoria of pain, am I just the Reaper’s gain?
My voice too silent, in this bullet rain…
But then again…

Freed like the wind, in a moment of brutal glee,
Someone else thought, I had lived enough;
A growing chaos, screeching to a halt
When the sand runs out, when karma is a bluff…

My voice too silent, in this bullet rain…
But then again…

(*rest in peace, you honest soul…)

Words will fail when age talks to me,
A stoop that burdens, not me but my mind;
Is it the path, or the future itself that I can’t see,
Know not, where i walk to, know not what I leave behind…

Questions, questions…
Life itself, bent like the question mark,
An unsolved puzzle, a mystery unanswered;
It’s a life-long prayer, on which you embark,
Till sweet death caresses all answers…

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[During the Gujrat riots...]

Anger, scorching hell, fire, melting flames,
Life is the pawn, in these deadly games,
The gulf burns, corpses by the barrow,
Is this man, so cheap, so narrow?
This time even satan won’t take the blames…